


ix. sick day

by icymapletree



Series: febuwhump/febufluff 2020 [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Febufluff, Fluff, Gen, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark is a Dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22641370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icymapletree/pseuds/icymapletree
Summary: “Do you have a family member or friend who we can call?” the doctor asks, looking at the nurse.“No, no, no. My wife’s in Europe,” Tony mumbles, “Call my kid. He’ll know what to do.”“It can’t hurt,” the nurse says quietly before speaking louder, “How old is your son?”“No, no, no. Not my son. He’d be embarrassed to be my son. He’s mykid.”
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: febuwhump/febufluff 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618837
Comments: 17
Kudos: 652
Collections: Marvel(ous)Universe, Peter Parker Stories, ellie marvel fics - read, iron fam





	ix. sick day

**Author's Note:**

> here, take some really really fluffy whump and reverse emergency contact trope lol

Tony rubs the space between his eyebrows, trying to force his headache away. It’s a miracle he’s on his feet, between the high fever and fatigue. But tomorrow is Peter’s birthday, and he won’t be knocked out by some head cold.

He’s in a dingy little tourist shop in New York, one that has its shelves lined with off-kilter merchandise. Tony never thought that he’d find himself in one of these places, but there’s a lot of places he wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for Peter - like the aquarium, for example. 

The kid had expressed that he wanted the Spider-Man plushie that he’d been seeing around New York on patrol - a crude approximation of the real thing, if Tony had an opinion of it. Peter’s birthday is tomorrow, so out of bed Tony comes, armed with a baseball hat and sunglasses. Tony knows about the kid’s aversion to expensive gifts, so this seemed like the next best thing - it would be like an inside joke between the two of them.

Yet despite the over-saturation of the stupid toy, Tony can’t find it anywhere. It seems like a cruel joke on Tony - he forces himself out of bed to do something nice for the kid, and Tony Stark, king of overspending, can’t find a thirteen dollar stuffed animal. 

The store owner has been eyeing him since he walked in the door, watching him with a certain trepidation. He gets it, he looks suspicious with his pale, feverish face and the sunglasses covering his eyes.

Finally, he spots the familiar shades of red and blue, and relief runs through him. The eyes are circular and a little too far apart, looking less buggish and more ghostly. The arms and legs are long and lanky, but not in a Peter type of way.

Tony snorts to himself, pulling the Spider-Man toy off the rack and making his way to the front of the store. He places the toy next to the cash register and the guy who is working rings the item up, silently. Tony reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, but his hand meets empty fabric.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, patting his pockets, “I must’ve left my wallet at home. Could you hold onto that item for me?”

“No,” the man says, and Tony just stares back.

“Are you sure?”

“...Yes.”

“Oh, well, okay. I’ll be back,” Tony says and goes to leave. He would’ve been successful, but then the floor came up to meet his face.

**x**

Tony blinks the grogginess out of his eyes, feeling the familiar sensation of an IV in his arm. His joints felt like they were floating on clouds - Helen must’ve hit him with the good stuff for whatever reason.

“Helen,” he grumbles, “What is this? Propofol?”

“He’s conscious,” a voice calls out. The body belonging to that voice turns the corner and smiles. “Hello there, sir. I’m Doctor Callahan.”

Tony rubs his eyes. “Hi Doctor Callahan.”

“Emergency services were called for you after you passed out in a shop in the lower east side. We were unable to find any identification on your person, so we admitted you as a John Doe. Are you feeling okay enough to answer some questions?”

Tony looks at his wrist - sure enough, his hospital band reads ‘John Doe.’ “Uh, yeah.”

“Do you have a name we can put on your record?”

“Tony Stark.”

“...Are you sure, sir?”

“I think I know my own first name, _Doctor Callahan._ ”

The doctor calls in a nurse. “Do you have a family member or friend who we can call?”

“No, no, no. My wife’s in Europe,” Tony mumbles, “Call my kid. He’ll know what to do.”

The doctor looks at the nurse, who shrugs. “It can’t hurt,” the nurse says quietly before speaking louder, “How old is your son?”

“No, no, no. Not my son. He’d be embarrassed to be my son. He’s my _kid_.”

The doctor and nurse share a look. “My bad. How old is your kid?” the nurse corrects.

“He’s sixteen.”

“Are you sure that you have no other family or friends nearby?”

“I’m _positive_ , Doctor Callahan.”

“Do you have a phone number we can reach him at?”

**x**

“Parker!” Mrs. Warren calls, breaking him out of his daydream, “Can you remind me what cosine squared of x minus one is?”

He looks up, smacking his lips. “Negative sine squared of x.”

“You’re off the hook this time,” Mrs. Warren shakes her pencil in his direction, going to answer the ringing phone. 

“Hello?” she says, then “Uh huh, I’ll send him down.”

Peter peeks his head up and looks at Mrs. Warren who says, “You’re _really_ off the hook. They need you in the office.”

He nods and slips his book bag straps over his shoulders, climbing down the stairs to get to the office, where May waits for him in one of the scratchy plush chairs. 

“I already signed you out,” she says, “c’mon honey, let’s go.”

Once they are in the car and buckling their seat belts, Peter looks to May. “Is it a mission?” he asks, “I love it when I get to leave school for a mission--”

“No, Peter, it’s not a mission. Tony’s in the hospital with the flu.”

“Why are we going? Why didn’t he just call Miss Potts or Helen?”

“The paramedics were called on him because he passed out in a shop on Essex Street. Why he was there, I don’t know, but Pepper is in Europe and can’t come back to sign him out.”

“So… uh, why us?”

“When asked for a contact, he said your name and was able to give your phone number before the anesthesia knocked him out again. And since you were grounded and didn’t have your cell phone--” Peter blushes, “--I got the call.”

“Uh, cool.”

**x**

The next time Tony wakes up, he finds himself face to face with Peter. He mumbles something incoherent, but Peter just rolls his eyes. He’s certain he’s in the medbay this time, why would Peter be there?

“Mr. Stark,” he says, and Tony groans.

“Mr. _Stark_ ,” he says again, this time with more conviction. 

“Huh?”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“Good, because we got you some TamiFlu and I want to get you home.”

“Ah, that sounds great.” The hospital is nice and all, but being home sounds amazing. He’s got nothing to do tomorrow--

“Crap,” Tony says, sitting up, “Crap, crap, crap.”

Peter’s lip quirks to the side. “I’m almost seventeen, Mr. Stark, you can say--”

“I’m so stupid. I need to get back to the shop--”

“The gross little place they picked you up from?” Peter furrows his brows. “There’s no reason that you need to go back there.”

“Yes, yes there is.” Tony runs a hurried hand through his hair. “It’s your _birthday_ tomorrow, Pete, and I just wanted to get you that one Spider-Man toy--”

“Woah, woah. Slow down, Mr. Stark… You have the flu. They had to _sedate_ you because you were freaking out so much in the ambulance. The emotion is there, I know, _trust me_. I don’t need anything for my birthday.”

“But just telling you that I-- that I appreciate you isn’t enough.”

“You don’t need to buy my love, Tony. Whether it’s thirteen dollars or one hundred and fifty, I don’t need it. Having you here is enough.”

“Are you sure, Peter? I can have FRI order you something--”

“I’m sure.”

“I’m serious, Pete, I need to get you a gift.”

“No, you don’t. And if you do, I’ll have Miss Potts ground you just like May grounded me.”

Tony is not going to give up that easily, but he smiles and tilts his head, wondering how he got such a good kid.

**x**

The next morning, when Peter wakes up, he finds a hand-sewn red and blue Spider-Man plush sitting on his bed. 

How it got there, he doesn’t know, but it goes up on his shelf next to his Iron Man action figures.

**Author's Note:**

> ack even thinking about the flu makes me feel sick
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/icymapletree)!


End file.
